


Hold Me Close, Kiss Me Hard

by oneforyourfire



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24180412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: Fucking Junmyeon hyung, it's never really been just fucking
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	Hold Me Close, Kiss Me Hard

**Author's Note:**

> se me fue mi sujito!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and this is how we cope

Fucking Junmyeon hyung, it's never really been just fucking, even ostensibly when it was supposed to be. When they were younger, bolder, felt more, or less, or different, stole kisses, touches, muffled moans in waiting rooms, bathroom stalls, bleach white hotel sheets. When it was stress relief or skin hunger or comfort or Junmyeon being his hyung, his leader, his rock, an outlet, a safe space. 

Fucking Junmyeon hyung, it probably couldn’t ever be just fucking, couldn’t ever be casual. Not with the way Junmyeon kisses or touches or holds, not with what it means to them both. 

So Sehun, he isn’t asking to be fucked right now, not really, and especially not now. Not when his hyung had carved out time for him special, his last night with him special. 

But he pretends that he is. Whispers it again as Junmyeon, kiss-bruised and wild-haired and arousal-flushed and so, so achingly, achingly handsome, crawls between his bare, trembling thighs. 

His grip is too loose, big, brown eyes much too soft, much too rapt, and his thumb soothes into his skin, tender in a way that makes Sehun’s heart fold into itself, crushed small, small, small. 

Junmyeon hyung had wanted—wants—his Sehunnie for his last night. His most special. His most important. His maknae, he’d said, but like an “I love you,” like an “I need you,” like a “You mean more to me than I could ever put into words.” Says that, too, though, a murmur into his upper thigh. Then along the base of his cock. The jut of his hip. The quiver of his belly. 

Misses his skin, he’s told him. Misses his everything. And Sehun, he’ll miss it, too. Miss it with his everything. 

And hard and aching, aching, aching, Sehun drags against Junmyeon’s throat, burns at the touch, burns for more, knows that even then, it won’t be enough. Nothing will be enough. 

And Sehun has already tasted the goodbye in the heat of his mouth, felt it in the skate of his fingers, Junmyeon kissing like always, but somehow more. Indulgent, excruciatingly affectionate. As if trying to memorize the taste of his mouth, the quiver of his skin, as if savoring it. And Sehun can’t, can’t, can’t—

And they aren’t fucking, but they should be. Right now. And again and again and again and as much as physically possible before Junmyeon has to—

Sehun rocks forward, pants as the ridge of his cock catches and drags on the contours of Junmyeon’s throat. Can’t make sense of the want. Wishes they were fucking, so he could. Or at least distract himself until he could. 

He whimpers as Junmyeon’s fingers curl around his waist, arresting. 

And Sehun can’t bear the thought of less, of nothing at all. And it isn’t that serious, and it could be worse, and it has been, but Junmyeon is sentimental and Sehun is selfish, doesn’t, doesn’t, doesn’t want—

“Fuck me,” he says for the third time that night. Then “Please.” Then “hyung.”

But Junmyeon, he lifts Sehun bodily to his mouth instead. And it’s almost cruel, how painfully, painfully, painfully slowly he licks into him, tauntingly thorough. How he keeps, keeps, keeps pressing until Sehun is quivering and gasping, tugging helplessly at Junmyeon’s hair, begging again to be fucked, please, even if he doesn’t mean it, even if it’s never, ever been just fucking with him. 

And it’s another goodbye, but almost an apology, too. The way he drags Sehun onto his lap, the way he tilts up to kiss him just once more. Just, just, just painfully right as Sehun finally, finally sinks onto him. 

His eyebrows pinch, lips part on the breathiest, breathiest moan. And Sehun thinks, he’ll miss even the uneven way his eyelashes flutter. The way his belly heaves, too. The way his jaw trembles. And that heavy, heady pulse when Sehun shifts his hips just so. 

“Come on, fuck me,” he tells him. Even though he needs more, has always needed more, even though it terrifies him sometimes, the fierceness of his need. The gravity of it. 

He fucks himself once, twice, thrice. And Junmyeon’s fingers slide up his spine, cradling, Sehun thinks, delirious with pleasure, treasuring, loving, loving, loving. And Sehun twists, works dirtier, faster, harder, harder. 

Repeats the request. Wants it. Needs it. It’s our last night, hyung. 

And Junmyeon curls his arms around Sehun, kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, drags him forward, back in tiny, breathless, breathless increments. Then gradually, gradually harder, deeper, closer, more, then more, then more. 

But it isn’t fucking. It hasn’t ever been fucking. And Junmyeon, Sehun, they deserve better tonight, he knows. Junmyeon, Sehun, they deserve a better goodbye.

And it isn’t fucking, and Sehun won’t, won’t, won’t be able to—

Not when Junmyeon always, always takes him like a promise, like a confession, like an “I love you” and an “I need you” and a “You mean more to me than I could ever put into words,” even as it gets urgent, heated, even as Junmyeon’s fingers tighten, as his hips slam, as his teeth scrape at Sehun’s collarbone, and his moans rasp and rasp and rasp. 

It isn’t. They aren’t. 

And Sehun still wishes they were fucking, really fucking, still wishes it didn’t _mean_ so much, hurt so much, wishes he didn’t have to choke past the sob lodged deep in his throat. Didn’t have to rasp about needing to be held, didn’t have to clutch helplessly at Junmyeon’s shoulders and think about how much he’ll miss it, the heat and weight and taste of him, how it could be worse, but it’s still changing and Sehun will still need and want and hurt and Junmyeon will, too

Junmyeon tilts his hips just right, kisses him hard, deep, teeming, teeming, teeming with love and affection as he fucks him that much harder, that much deeper, wrenches more desperate, needy sounds out of him, and desperate, desperate, needy, needy, Sehun tumbles to his shattering, sobbing end.

**Author's Note:**

> if you follow my writing or my twitter, you probably know it's been a Struggle these past couple of months, but i finally finished a thing and in time to say goodbye to my favorite boy  
> thanks for reading :)


End file.
